


Aftermath

by ExplodedPen



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Family, Parent Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-26
Updated: 2005-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplodedPen/pseuds/ExplodedPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's harder than it looks, this parenting gig, especially when you're on your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family History

**Author's Note:**

> This was written following the death of a close family friend. I suppose it was my way of working through everything that happened after.
> 
> Many thanks to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain for the beta.

I never thought I'd have this life.

It all started on Enterprise, where I met and (reluctantly) admitted deep feelings for her. It wasn't that I didn't love her-God knows how much I loved that woman. But the rules and regulations held me back;that sensible voice in the back of my head would keep reminding me of the rules.

Until one day, I tuned that voice out. Two years later we married, not even a year later we were back on Earth expecting our first child.

I'll admit at this point I was terrified. One of the reasons I loved the Armoury was that everything had a single purpose and was uncomplicated. Being a Dad would leave me open to the giant minefield of parenthood. It was my initial sink or swim moment and my God did I feel like I was sinking…

Still, Hoshi helped me. She was a born mother; it all came naturally to her. I wasn't particularly enamoured with the aspect of being a father. The midwives were beside themselves cooing "Oh isn't he a little poppet! He's absolutely gorgeous! You must be so proud!" Or at least this is what Hoshi informed me they said. I was occupied with a space on the floor, I was never fantastic with excessive amounts of gore and seeing what I had just seen…urgh. Nevertheless I roused just in time to hold the baby.

Here was this tiny, pink, screaming…thing…All I could think was 'WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo?' Oh yeah, there was no way in hell I was going to be offered father of the year.

Still, after a while I got used to being a Dad. It wasn't so hard really, Hoshi did all the hard stuff, I was just there to muck around with him. Daddy means fun, Mummy means business, and that was the basic rule of our house.

I suppose that I should've helped out more, I wish I'd done more. I wish I'd helped Hoshi out, told her how much I appreciated everything…but I didn't. Feelings were never my strong point...

Don't get me wrong though-life was good. I might have been in a permanent state of terror but we had a good life. When Jonas was 4 Harry came along. Harry was different to Jonas. As a baby Jonas seemed to cry relentlessly, Harry on the other hand was the most amiable baby I've ever come across. He had no worries about being passed around like a parcel. He didn't even cry when my father picked him up, which left me thinking 'I've either got the bravest baby in the universe or the most foolhardy.'

Jonas didn't appreciate Harry's arrival at first: having the next-door neighbour bring Harry over after Jonas shoved him through their cat-flap was a big clue.

At this point I began teaching and so did Hoshi, the local babysitter was dutifully employed and everything was perfect.

As we all know though, perfection is something that is attained only after you've realised you've lost it.

When Jonas was 5 we dropped him off at the local primary school. He gave the nearly weeping Hoshi and I a look that plainly said 'You expect me to stay here?' After that first day though we never saw that kid for dust when he entered the school grounds.

Ella was next to be added to our brood. 'What's one more?' Hoshi asked me beaming. Sure, just one more. Don't get me wrong though, I would move heaven and earth for my kids, I was just constantly terrified I'd kill them. When all of them were small and asleep I'd poke them just to make sure they were still breathing, Hoshi despaired of me.

But life was good. Keyword in that sentence-was.

One accident and hospital visit later, our household number decreased to 4.

Hoshi was dead…and I was alone, left to fend for myself and our children. If I was terrified before I could barely function now.

There was so much to do, people to contact, a funeral to arrange…Kids to tell….All I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and hide till the nightmare went away.

Unfortunately I had too much to do to just shut down. Tempting as it was.

I was now the sole carer for three children. My children.

Luckily, Starfleet had allowed me four months of compassionate leave. Normally I'd have kicked up a fuss, wanting to throw myself into work. But I didn't have that luxury this time; there were children to take care of.

I had never felt more afraid or alone in my entire life.


	2. Past Tense

Time held no meaning. The days passed and still I felt nothing. Half of me was missing and I could feel nothing. I just walked around like a zombie, giving what little comfort I could offer to the kids and haphazardly organising Hoshi's funeral.

I could still see her though; I could still hear her as I moved round the house. I even found myself talking to her on a couple of occasions. If I could still hear her and still see her, then it meant she wasn't gone.

The kids were inconsolable. I told them first, I felt it was wrong to tell anyone else before them and I wanted to have time to grieve alone with them before anyone else stepped in the 'take care of things'.

I didn't tell them Hoshi had gone away. I told them the truth. I told them there had been a terrible accident. Harry didn't understand at first. He asked me when his Mummy was coming home; he asked if the Doctors were trying to make her better. I remember nearly crying then and there as I said "They tried Harry…they really tried…." Then he understood. Hoshi was never coming home.

I cried when I saw her dead body and I cried with my children as they found out. But I wouldn't allow myself to cry again.

After that there was just the funeral to get through, and then it would time to pick up the pieces and carry on with what remained of our lives.

I used to like funerals; I saw it as a final goodbye to the person in question, a time for letting go. But I didn't want to say goodbye and I didn't want to let go. I wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and hide-hide from all emotions and memories.

The kids sat with Hoshi's parents, Harry sobbing uncontrollably, Jonas staring straight ahead and studiously ignoring me. The guests gave me sympathetic looks as I made my way to the stand. I didn't look at the coffin nearby, I just stared straight ahead, my hands gripping hold of my sleeves tightly. I'm surprised the material didn't rip.

"I think Hoshi would be amazed to see so many people here." God, I hated speeches too, but no one was doing this one except me. I had no plan, I was doing my worst…."I guess she never really knew how many people cared about her…" This was painful. I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. I felt guilty because I wasn't crying. People were staring at me expectantly, my mouth was moving but no words were coming out. They exchanged glances and I knew what they were saying. The usual 'poor man, he hasn't been the same' conversation that seemed to sweep any room I walked into. So I started talking. I told them how wonderful Hoshi was, how much I loved her, how much she would be missed, all the things you're supposed to.

But, at the back of the room I saw Hoshi smiling.

Nice speech Malcolm. You should really remember to plan them though. You've got the raving lunatic thing working for you at the moment. 

I left the stand quickly and the funeral continued. Our friends from the Enterprise stood up and said their part, Hoshi's mother gave a highly emotional speech that left me with oozing wounds on the inside of my mouth from biting my cheeks so hard. But finally, her coffin disappeared. And the sounds of crying people reached my ears.

I hate funerals.

I hate the sympathy you receive. The knowing looks, the careful treatment…. I had the overwhelming urge to tell them all to bugger off. But I didn't. I was one of those people once too….

I never was good with emotions.

The wake afterwards was even worse. Jonas ran to his room, locked himself in and refused to come out. Ella cried because all these new people were scaring her. I couldn't blame her. She was in the arms of Ciona, our babysitter.

Hoshi had been nice to Ciona but I never knew they were close. Still, that didn't stop Ciona from sobbing like her heart had been ripped out leaving attractive make up smudges down her face. No wonder Ella was scared, Ciona looked like her face was melting away.

Harry had somehow blended in with the crowd of people and would give polite conversation when prompted.

Me?

Well, I had to speak to people. Received the sympathetic looks, hear the 'poor man' conversations and reminded every five seconds that Hoshi was a wonderful person. She was so friendly. She was a good friend.

Some of our old friends from the Enterprise were there, bearing apologies and messages of deepest sympathy from Archer and T'Pol, both of whom were on a mission and couldn't make it. Travis was supported by his fiancée, a nice young woman-I made polite conversation, avoided all eye contact and made my way round the room. I didn't want to spend a long time talking with them. They would want to talk about Hoshi and I couldn't get into that in front of all these people who were also dying to talk to me about Hoshi.

Still, Trip was with me every step of the way. He didn't say much and he didn't treat me like I was about to fall to pieces. He didn't treat me like some escapee from an insane asylum about to stick two breadsticks up my nose and sing 'I'm a little teacup'.

It was refreshing to say the least.

"Malcolm dear, how are you doing?" asked Mrs Peacock, next-door neighbour, probably spawned from Satan himself. Put on this Earth to state the obvious and smother anyone within a ten mile radius with her mothering personality. "Such a sad occasion." No shit Sherlock. "Hoshi was a wonderful woman. You must feel her loss dreadfully."

I could almost imagine Hoshi stood behind her pulling a face; Mrs Peacock looked at me, waiting for a response.

I just walked away from her; I walked away from the crowd, up the stairs and down to Jonas' room. Leaving Mrs Peacock floundering a moment before Trip engaged her in conversation.

"Jonas," I called through the door. "It's just me, open the door."

I wasn't sure I wanted him to open the door, but it wasn't about what I wanted. It was what he needed.

The door opened and Jonas pulled me inside before carefully locking the door again.

"Are they gone yet?" he asked.

I shook my head and watched him. He turned away from me and sat at his desk. He didn't move again. I was concerned, while Jonas had never been the loudest child he had a disconcerting habit of constantly fidgeting, he was never still, always on the move. To see him this still…well, it was unheard of and quite frankly extremely worrying.

"Did Mum know all those people?"

"Yeah."

"I thought she didn't like Mrs Peacock."

"She doesn't."

"Does anybody like Mrs Peacock?"

I nearly laughed. I sat down on his bed and allowed myself a small smile. "Mr Peacock must like her or they wouldn't have had David."

"That doesn't mean he likes her," said Jonas firmly.

"I guess it doesn't."

Silence. Horrible, horrible silence followed. Jonas didn't move once. Did he want to speak to me? After all, Hoshi had covered the emotional stuff. Let's face it, emotions were not my strong point. Ever.

"Jonas?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't want to go down."

"I'm not going to make you," I assured him. I wasn't either; I didn't want to go down myself-not till everyone had gone home.

"Dad?"

I looked at him expectantly and waited.

Someone knocked on the door. "Malcolm dear, Ella's vomited on the carpet." Oh beautiful, beautiful mental image. "She needs you."

So did Jonas.

"You'd better go then," said Jonas.

"I'll be back later."

I unlocked the door nearly killing Mrs Peacock as I hurried down the stairs. Ella held out her arms to me sobbing. Ciona had hold of her and Ella was in a state of terror. She buried her head in my shoulder and I carried her away. No doubt someone would clean the floor to help 'the poor man'.

The house was beginning to clear. The lounge smelt like disinfectant and no one seemed that eager to stay. Even Mrs Peacock gave in. Soon, only Hoshi's parents and Trip remained.

And I as returned to the group I could hear Hoshi say Now that wasn't so hard was it Malcolm? Shame about the puke though. Still, nice job. I would've liked to know so many people cared.

One hurdle had been knocked down, just a hundred million more to go. Talking with Hoshi's parents wasn't going to be easy. Trip seemed to realise I wanted him to go. He came over clapped a hand on my shoulder, all but ordered me to call him later then left.

Mrs Sato had Harry in her lap, the picture of carefully constructed calm. Mr Sato's face was puffy and red but he wasn't crying.

"It was a lovely service Malcolm," said Mrs Sato her voice sounding strained.

"She wouldn't have wanted to be buried."

"No, she wouldn't."

Oh yeah, Malcolm the great and wonderful conversationalist was making his debut. At this point I wanted to curl up in a ball, cry and forget this day had happened. But no. The one thing you have to do when someone dies, is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk and then talk some more, because in the land of sugar and treacle talking about Hoshi doesn't make me want to physically rip my own heart out jump on it a few times then kick it into the road for good measure.

I don't think I could cope with feeling that pain again. Better bottling than collapsing.

I can't cry again.

The uncomfortable silence continued, Ella fiddled with the buttons on my jacket still looking decidedly pale. Jonas still hadn't put in an appearance.

And the faces of those at the funeral seemed to drift away as I stared at a photo of Hoshi and I on the wall. I was barely following the conversation, stilted as it was.

I hate funerals.

As I lay in the seemingly huge double bed a thought occurred to me. I was alone now. Free to grieve without the prying eyes of the entire world. But I couldn't. I couldn't just let go of my tight hold.

I shook off the covers and stood up. I'd go check on the kids, make sure they were still alive and sleeping. First stop, Ella.

She was fast asleep, a perfect miniature of her mother. I watched her a moment before ducking into Harry's room.

Harry's room was a minefield. With every step you were liable to step on a toy soldier or pieces of Lego or discarded crayons and bit's of paper. No matter how careful I was I usually ended up standing on everything with a sharp pointy stick part and swearing a blue streak under my breath.

This time however, I didn't stand on anything as I picked my way through the mess. I panicked for a second. I couldn't see Harry anywhere. It was only when I looked harder that I realised he was in fact bunched up at the bottom of his bed, sighing softly in his sleep.

Jonas too was sleeping.

So how come I wasn't sleeping? I'd spent many a night on my own in bed. But tonight sleep didn't come easily.

And when it finally came I was awoken mere seconds later by a tearful Harry shaking me.

"Daddy," he sobbed holding out his arms.

I lifted him up and held him as he cried. Was his nightmare about Hoshi? Or the usual faceless people that haunted my son's dreams? I never found out, Harry wouldn't tell me.

But I didn't get anymore sleep that night.


	3. Shopping Hell

I began to develop respect for Hoshi on a whole new level. I knew she was fantastic and could manage practically anything to do with our kids….but I never had any idea that I married Wonder Woman.

There was always something: they're hungry they want food, they're dirty they need cleaning. Jonas has homework he needs help, Harry can't tie his shoes yet, Ella isn't potty trained yet she needs a nappy change, the bills need paying, the house needs cleaning, the cupboard door came off (my fault-slammed it shut in a moment of stupidity), the kids need first aid they've lost a leg…

I didn't know how she did it. But the worst thing, the worst thing was the need to go food shopping. I hate shopping in any way, shape or form. It's a form of torture that I was forced to help with on a weekly basis. Now I had to do it on my own. Mrs Peacock had offered to help, but to be quite honest I'd rather gouge out my own eyes than spend another compulsory second with that woman.

However, ignoring the fact the fridge held only eggs, cheese and butter was not going to work forever. The kids needed food. I wasn't particularly bothered with food but they needed it. It was necessary for their survival or something like that…

I wasn't in the brightest of moods when I approached a large box like building labelled 'ASDA'. The boys were at a friend's house. I might've wanted to keep them by my side to ensure they were safe but locking in the house was only going to fuel my growing panic that something would happen to them….something I couldn't protect them from….

Still, with Ella firmly strapped into the trolley, I determinedly pushed it through the automatic doors and into shopping hell.

The greeter waved to me cheerily then proceeded to announce to the entire store that ASDA bread rolls were on sale today.

"Oh she's gorgeous," an old woman cooed behind me.

Ella giggled and smiled up at me. The old woman beamed then moved on. I pulled out a carefully prepared list. I manoeuvred the trolley carefully down the aisles, avoiding looking at anything other than the shelves lest I see anyone I knew and be forced to explain why Hoshi wasn't with me. How they could've missed the funeral with the massive crowd of people I don't know. But people still seemed shocked when I had to explain why she wasn't there.

At this point the general feeling of despair that had been hanging over me suddenly heightened. I knew that know matter what I did I could never live up to what Hoshi had done and all she'd accomplished with basically everything. But I could try my hardest anyway. Trouble was, when it came to deciding the simplest thing like which spaghetti to buy...one cooked in less than five minutes but for waiting an extra minute for the spaghetti to cook I could also get more for my money….apparently….I was out of my depth and felt like giving up and storming out the shop.

Ella reached out for the enticing packets on the shelves in my distraction and grabbed hold of one of the boxes. Seconds later a cascade of super noodles rained down around me.

Normally I would've blushed, apologised like there's no tomorrow and picked everything up before hurrying away quickly. Unfortunately I wasn't operating on normal. I was barely operating on just living, so I lost it.

"For God's sake Ella!" I yelled furiously shoving the packets back onto the shelf. "You don't just grab whatever the hell you want!"

Ella started to cry and people stared at me. I could hear whispered conversations about how shocking it was that I was shouting at a baby.

They were right, I was shouting at my own daughter, a mere baby who had barely grasped standing up yet. Red in the face I pushed the trolley away. Ella kept crying and wouldn't stop. I had a pounding headache building behind my eyes and I just wanted to give up and throw myself down on the ground sobbing at how life had screwed me over.

"Problems sir?" it was one of the oh-so-friendly shelf stackers.

"No," I replied tightly. "Everything's fine, my daughter just pulled some packets off the shelf."

"I'll sort that sir," said the shelf stacker, in one of those voices that made it clear that he thought I was insane, stupid or just really, really pissed.

I don't think that person will ever know how close he came to only being able to drink through a straw.

The rest of the shopping trip was a combination of food horror, Ella crying and me giving anyone within a ten foot radius a vicious look that actually made a small boy cry.

Oh yeah, I was on a roll.

To top it all off I was late picking up the boys and as soon as we got home I realised I'd forgotten to pick up something for Jonas which he needed for school the next day.

The result? Jonas screamed "I hate you! Mummy would never have forgotten it! Why did she have to die? Why couldn't you have died!" Then he ran up to his room, slammed the door and left Harry crying softly.

Parenthood was a sink or swim situation. At that moment in time I'd sunk so far I couldn't even see the surface anymore.

I couldn't help agreeing with Jonas though, I wasn't Hoshi-I never would be. I wasn't as good as she was at running the household, I couldn't leap walls in a single bloody bound and save the day. All I could was my best and my best seemed to be falling drastically short of the mark.

The most irritating thing was people kept trying to contact me, kept offering to move in and help out for a while. Kept offering me a bleedin' shoulder to cry on.

But I knew that if I accepted their help, I would never be able to wean myself off it. I'll admit, I don't accept help easily.

Hoshi may have died but I had to carry on-just to prove I could do it and just to ensure that no one knew the horrible pain and torment the night brought.

Unfortunately, I was not allowed to dwell in my own misery for long. There was a brisk knock on the door and Mrs Peacock announced her presence.

"I thought I'd just drop by and see how you were doing," she explained hanging up her coat and shutting the door. Did she let herself into everyone's houses in our village or was I just special?

I made a promise to myself to always lock the door. "Oh I'm doing just fine," I said politely.

"I made you a lasagne as I know what with everything that's happen you probably don't feel up to cooking," she said expertly navigating her way into my kitchen.

At this point I started to fantasise about all the different ways I could kill her. Good old spur of the moment stabbing with a butcher's knife or the more creative death by lasagne? The possibilities were endless.

"So how have you been, Malcolm dear?" she asked taking in my appearance.

I'll admit, I was a little less put together than usual but I was still infinitely more presentable than most people. Still, I didn't think my appearance warranted a look that clearly suggested she believe I had completely let go.

"I'm fine."

"And the children? They must be missing their mother dreadfully."

No, really! Here's me thinking they hardly cared at all! My God, this woman must've received the MOSTBO award-Master Of Stating The Bloody Obvious.

"Look, I don't want to sound rude but I've got lots of things to do so if you wouldn't mind….?"

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Anything I can do, Malcolm dear?" Oh Good God no.

"No, I'll be fine."

"If you ever need me you know where I am," she said patting my arm.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said gripping the kitchen counter tightly. Yeah, I'd call Mrs Peacock over…when Hell froze over and I was ice skating with Satan.

She favoured me with another sympathetic smile. "Now, all you need to do is heat up that lasagne. The children will love it I'm sure-my David always loved my lasagne."

I almost did a double take. Had I not just requested that she leave! Had I just imagined that conversation?

"Before I forget," the she-Devil continued. "I took the liberty of looking out the child psychologist that we sent David to. He's excellent, a total miracle worker. It'll be good for the children to have someone to talk to."

I did my best goldfish impression for several minutes before finally managing to form a coherent sentence. "Thanks Mrs Peacock, I'll be sure to look into that. I'm sure the lasagne will be lovely. But as you know, I'm really, really busy at the moment…"

"Well, would you like me to help out?"

NO!

"That's very kind of you to offer but I'll have to decline. Bye Mrs Peacock."

She looked almost insulted, and then she appeared to change her mind, patted my arm again and swept into the hallway. As soon as she left I locked the door…and the back door for good measure.

I tried to talk to Jonas later on. He refused to talk to me. I called him down for dinner and he ate so fast I began to wonder if he was even chewing his food before he swallowed or whether it was some freakish variation of osmosis that allowed him to absorb food without any effort in chewing required.

Harry was quiet. Too quiet. The boy spoke less than three words a day which was unnervingly to say the least. Usually the problem was trying to get him to shut up for more than five seconds.

That night I watched them all sleep again. I reflected on the fact I might actually be turning into some sort of mutant mother hen-desperate for them to try and get back to normal after Hoshi's….and then trying to protect them for everything in the world and wanting nothing more than to seal up the entire house and coat everything in bubble wrap.

Ok, that sounded drastic even for me.

I couldn't deny my children had changed, well the boys had. Ella didn't know anything is wrong. Or at least I don't think she did. That was probably something that would crop up when she's at school, the dreaded 'How come I don't have a mummy like the other kids?'

Harry just withdrew. You could never get that kid to shut up and now, when I wanted him to communicate more than ever, he barely said a word. His eyes would go wide and he'd either nod or shake his head in response. Sometimes he'd seek me out and stare at me for second then go back to whatever he was doing.

Jonas just hated me. I am not Hoshi. I am his father not his mother and therefore he hated me. I tried to talk to him but he just glared at me.

I cracked weak jokes, made a half hearted attempt to talk to him about Hoshi before drying up completely and I tried to just be sympathetic.

Nothing worked and I'm just too….well I just didn't quite know what to do. Emotions were never my strong point, dealing with them, talking with them or even acknowledging them sometimes was not something I liked doing.

I hadn't even sorted through Hoshi's things yet. The will had yet to be read but I didn't care.

I couldn't quite bring myself to sort through her things. Or even move them from their usual places. Her things still littered our bedroom because moving them would mean that she is truly gone. Leaving them there somehow makes everything less hopeless.

Unfortunately, I'm not an optimistic person by nature. Whatever comfort I generate from anything is crushed the second I exit its proximity. I don't know if it's truly hit me that she's gone yet.

I felt guilty that I hadn't really mourned her going. I felt guilty because I'd only cried twice.

Should I feel guilty? Or should I keep doing what I'm doing? Or should I just give into the depression completely, let the house go to ruin, the kids run free and wild and ignore all attempts at conversation from the outside world?

Tough decision. The latter was so very tempting…


	4. What Kind of Man?

It'd been about two and a half months since Hoshi…let's just say two and a half months had passed. Everything was beginning to run a little smoother-until you scratched a little bit under the surface.

Unfortunately, I still didn't want to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it would mean I'd have to deal with all those pesky emotions again. Besides, everything seemed fine. Jonas hated my guts, Harry had developed the ability to become invisible and Ella was still blissfully unaware of anything except toys, food and that oh so enticing cupboard which for some strange reason Daddy had locked to prevent her from getting in.

But, life had a habit of screwing me over and so I wasn't even that surprised when I got a call from school requesting my presence.

I stared at Ella and spent a few seconds debating whether or not to leave her with Mrs Peacock, the decision was easy. I wouldn't leave my worst enemy in the hands of Mrs Peacock.

So Ella was bundled into the pushchair and I hot-footed it over to the school, where the Miss Trunchbull look-alike told me to 'sit down and wait to be seated!' I marvelled at how I had faced down many aliens in my time only to be reduced to a nervous wreck by the school receptionist. Oh, how times had changed.

The door to the headmaster's office swung open and he strode out. I instantly felt ridiculous. The man was at least 6ft 6 and I had to crane my neck just to see his face. I briefly wondered if he bent down to talk to the children or whether he used his height to his advantage and simply put the fear of God into them.

"Mr Reed?" he asked glancing down at me. "If you'd like to come with me please."

It wasn't a request. It was an order and I instantly felt insulted, though not entirely sure why. It could've been that some 6ft 6 giant with hands the size of dustbin lids had decided to treat me like a naughty schoolchild. Either that or I was just irritated that he thought he could order me around; he wasn't my superior or my parents.

I pushed Ella into the office and took a seat. He leaned against his desk, towering over me.

"We've called you here today because we've had some difficulties with your sons," he began nodding to the teacher stood in the corner. I instantly recognised her to be Jonas' teacher, a woman somewhat challenged when it came to matching colours and patterns. At this point I sensed this was going to be more about Jonas than Harry, after all how much trouble can one kid get into if he wouldn't even do anything but the bare minimum?

"What kind of difficulties?" I asked.

"Well," he began. "We've taken into account your recent…loss." I stiffened but said nothing. "But I'm afraid Jonas' behaviour is simply unacceptable. He's starting fights in the playground, his work is slipping and he's not interacting well with the other children."

"He's starting fights?" That caught my attention at least. Jonas had never ever started fights, he'd have the occasional fight but they were usually over and done with swiftly. He was one of those people who simmered when provoked; it took a lot to get him mad usually. Unless he was talking/shouting/screaming at me, in which case anger came easily.

He nodded and motioned for Jonas' teacher, Miss Miller, to continue. She stepped forward and took a deep breath. "I'm worried that his mother's death…"I twitched involuntarily. "Has unsettled him. Has he talked to you about his feelings at all?"

I shook my head. The only thing I knew about Jonas' feelings was that he was really, really angry-with me mainly.

"He used to be such a sweet boy," she sighed. "Now he talks when I'm talking, he answers back and he starts fighting and arguing with his classmates. I very worried about him; Mrs Riddle is equally as worried about Harry. She says he's become withdrawn and says very little during the day."

"Mr Reed," the head interrupted. "We believe it would be a good idea if you took your children to see a psychologist. The loss of a parent…" I twitched again. "Can often be extremely traumatising."

These people weren't telling me anything I didn't already know. But they were reminding me of everything I had ignored. I was focusing on making it through each and every day without breaking down, but in the process I was ignoring my children. Not on a physical level but on an emotional level.

Ella squawked indignantly and I lifted her from the pushchair. I held her somewhat protectively as I watched the two people stare at me intensely.

"These issues need to be addressed Mr Reed," said the headteacher firmly. "This fighting and anti-social behaviour will simply not do. We expect more from our students here."

"We have of course already spoken with Jonas and Harry," said Miss Miller.

I frowned. They both stared at me expectantly. I considered keeping my mouth shut, I considered being polite, but the little voice in my head broke free.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked simply. "Do you want me to argue?"

"I would've thought you'd care a little more about your children's wellbeing," said Miss Miller bristling. "Your sons are deeply traumatised and your daughter will probably follow in their footsteps if nothing is done to help them!"

Woah. I was pretty sure she couldn't say that to me, like I was also pretty sure she didn't have a degree in psychology. Luckily the head decided it was time for her to return to her class-which was actually pretty lucky for her as I was well on my way to being really, really angry.

"What I'm sure Miss Miller meant," the head continued smoothly. "Was that your sons need some help with dealing with their feelings."

"I know that," I said staring at him. I'll admit I was satisfied to see him shift uncomfortably. "But I also know that a few pretty words will not make their troubles go away and I also know that they have to come to terms with this in their own time."

"That doesn't mean you can't help them," he reminded me gently. "Mr Reed, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that they are only children, not adults."

What could I say to that? He was right in a roundabout way, I'd done everything to try and help them without actually helping them. Maybe I was at fault. In fact scratch the maybe.

Ella began to fidget incessantly and I realised that the Head had now said his piece.

"Well, thank you for calling me in," I said simply.

"It's not wrong to admit you need help," he said. The man suddenly seemed less imposing but I was tired of people telling me what to do. I was tired of people trying to run my life because they knew what was best for me. Everyone knew what was best except me.

I was tired of it all, and yet I was angry because at the same time I knew they were right.

"I think it would be best if you took the boys home now," he said. "They're waiting in reception for you."

I strapped Ella back into her chair and sighed. God, the truth hurt.

I nodded to the Head teacher and moved back into the reception. Harry flung himself on me and Jonas got to his feet, shouldered his backpack and stared at me.

"Home time," I said mildly.

The walk home was conducted in silence. Torturous thoughts danced round my head and by the time we reached home I was ready to scream.

"I'm in trouble," said Jonas quietly.

"You and me both, son. Now go sit down, I want to talk to you both."

I set Ella down with her toys and joined the boys on the sofa.

"I've been talking with your teachers," I began. I paused; I had lost all idea of what to say.

Harry slipped off the sofa. "Where are you going?"

"Loo."

"Are you gonna shout?" Jonas asked glaring.

"No."

He looked surprised. "Why not?"

I shrugged and answered "There's nothing to shout about." I had learnt from my years of work in the Armoury and then teaching that there were ways to get a point across without shouting and still getting the desired result.

He fell silent.

"What's wrong Jonas?"

"You don't really want to know," he said crossing his arms. "You don't even care."

"What do you mean you don't think I care! Of course I care!"

Jonas leapt to his feet and screamed "No you don't! You do everything except talk! You won't talk about mum and you cringe everytime her name is mentioned!"

Then he ran off. "Jonas!" I yelled. "Jonas, get back here!"

Ella started to cry at the loud noise and Harry joined her, rubbing his arm where Jonas had brushed past him. To be honest, I felt like joining them. I sank back in despair and Harry climbed onto my lap seeking comfort. At least he still liked me.

It was only when they were all safely tucked away in bed that I finally began to process the days events. However, my destructive thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door.

It was Trip.

"Hey Mal."

"Hello Trip."

He came in without another word and I closed the door behind him. He sprawled out on the sofa and stared at me intently. "You look like crap."

Oh yeah, Trip could never be accused of being blunt.

"Thanks for that."

There was a long silence before I finally spoke up. "Is there any particular reason for the visit, Trip?"

"Other than the fact I haven't heard from you since the funeral and the fact that you are extremely bad at taking calls, no. No particular reason at all," he replied stretching out.

"I've been busy, kids to run, houses to feed…" It was a poor joke and I knew it. "Do you want a drink?"

"You ok?" he asked me.

I stared at him, a lump rose in my throat. The customary response 'fine' played about on my lips before it died away.

"No, I'm not ok. The house is falling down around my head. Jonas hates me, he's in trouble at school, and his work is suffering…Harry. God, remember how hard it was to get him to shut up? Now he's so withdrawn he's starting to camouflage against the walls. Ella is still the same because she's too young to realise that things are any different…" The lump in my throat suddenly prevented all speech. My vision suddenly went suspiciously blurry and I realised to my horror that I was on the verge of crying.

I hadn't cried since…well lets just say I hadn't cried in about two months. I wanted to be alone, I wanted Trip to go. Now. I didn't want him to see me collapse.

Did I? Maybe I did. Maybe I thought he could help. Maybe there was a little part of me that wanted Trip to push the issue, to confront me about everything and to force me to accept what had happened.

Instead I made up some excuse about needing a drink and walked into the kitchen. I wasn't even aware Trip followed. I was sobbing before I'd even managed to switch the kettle on.

Everything that I'd held inside me was released. I was like a bottle of fizz that had been shaken too much and was now exploding over everything.

"I can't do this," I sobbed slipping down onto the floor. "I can't do this without her!"

"You can," said Trip sitting down beside me. "You've been doing brilliantly, Mal."

"No, I haven't!" I was crying so hard I could barely see, but for once I didn't care. "I got called into the school today; the teachers want me to take the boys to a psychologist. Jonas has been acting up and Harry just won't do anything! I'm losing control of them…" My shoulders shook and my voice trembled but I couldn't stop. "I'm one of the best officers Starfleet has to offer, I've been told I'm calm and collected during a crisis. I've created a shielding device…but I can't comfort my own sons or be there for them when they need me. What kind of man does that make me? What kind of father am I?"

"They weren't the only ones to lose someone," Trip reminded me gently. "You aren't superman Malcolm, no one expects you to be either."

"Daddy?"

It was Jonas. I could barely make him out through my tears. He looked so helpless and alone standing in the doorway.

"Go back to bed, Jonas," said Trip softly.

Jonas ignored him and continued to hover tentatively in the doorway. I hurriedly scrubbed at my face with my sleeve, he stared at me a second longer before fleeing to the safety of his room.

What did I do? I cried well into the night, with Trip at my side. The next morning he called in work to say he wasn't going in, he sorted out the kids got them all settled and took care of them while I sat in my room staring at a photo of me and Hoshi. I didn't say a word to anyone all day. But I think Trip knew how much I appreciated everything he did.


	5. The Closure of a Grave

The day after I'd finally broken down I convinced Trip to go home. I wanted to be alone with my children – after spending a sleepless night dwelling on all my shortcomings as a father I finally had some idea of what to say.

I faltered at Jonas' door. We hadn't exactly been on speaking terms recently; in fact he hadn't said a word to me since he walked in on me in the kitchen. I didn't even know why he had come downstairs in the first place.

He was reading when I entered, sort of curled up on his bed with his back facing the door.

"Jonas?"

He sat up and stared at me.

"Can I sit down?"

He nodded and made space for me to perch on the end of his bed.

"I heard what you said to Uncle Trip," he said gazing at me. "I've never heard you cry like that before."

I shifted uncomfortably. "I don't cry like that very often." Very true, I didn't cry like that on a daily basis and certainly not in front of people like I had done the night before last. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared!" Jonas visibly bristled and he glared at me.

"Startled then," I amended, resisting the urge to smirk. He really could be so like his mum sometimes...

"Was it because of mum?" he asked shifting a little closer.

I nodded. "I miss her."

"I didn't think you missed her," said Jonas sounding surprised. "You didn't cry or anything and you never talked about mum. You didn't even like it when somebody else talked about her!"

"That doesn't mean I don't miss her." God only knows how much I miss Hoshi. I do anything to have her back…anything.

Jonas seemed satisfied with my answer. But he still kept his distance.

"Are you angry because you thought I don't care…or are you angry because she died and not me?" I asked finally.

Jonas looked away and said his response so quietly I couldn't hear it.

"What was that?" I asked lightly, touching him on the shoulder.

"Why did she have to die?" he whispered looking up again. "Why couldn't it have been someone else?"

This I had an answer for. "Because accidents happen. We can't predict when and where and we can't predict who will get hurt. It wasn't someone purposely setting out to hurt mum. It was a terrible, terrible accident and there hasn't been a day gone by that I haven't asked why she was taken and not me. If I could've taken her place I would've done. But I didn't and now I'm left to do the best job I can."

He didn't have anything to say to this and I panicked momentarily wondering if I'd said the right thing-if there was ever a right thing to say.

"I don't hate you," he said eventually. "A little bit before, but I don't hate you now."

"I know." Blatant, blatant lie, I thought, he hated me with every fibre of his being. Still, I might as well persevere with the conversation, considering I still had a million and one clichés to trot out yet.

Jonas suddenly crawled into my lap and hugged me. "I want mum back," he whispered burying his face in my shoulder.

"Me too, Me too."

I held him a while then said "We still need to talk about the fighting though…but not right now."

Jonas pulled away and stared at me. "Daaaaaad!"

Ok, so I had almost made it through a conversation without doing something stupid. I had almost managed to talk through some emotion, and I think I'd made a weeny bit of progress regarding my relationship with Jonas.

One small step for me, one giant leap for fatherkind!

"You can always talk to me Jonas," I said.

"What if I don't want to talk to you?" he asked a ghost of a grin on his face.

"I haff vays of making you talk," I replied smiling. Jonas grinned, then his grin faded slightly.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" I stared at him expectantly.

"Can we go visit mum?"

Whatever I was expecting him to ask it wasn't this. I knew he'd probably want to go see Hoshi's gravestone one day (not that there was anything in the grave beneath, it was more a memorial, her ashes had been spread elsewhere) but I didn't think it would be this soon. Ok, I was lying; I didn't want it to be this soon.

"Sure," I managed.

"Tomorrow?"

I nodded, although my heart sank. I wasn't ready to face Hoshi and if I may be completely childish here, there was a small part of me somewhere that was holding out for never having to face Hoshi. But then again, I'm a Reed, and so are my children. We don't run from anything... well, we might hide for a while first, but we always come out cannons blazing in the end!

He gave me a wide smile and another hug. He returned to his book and I got up to leave.

Sure, all our problems hadn't been solved. The best, most comforting words in the world couldn't solve the problem. At the risk of sounding clichéd, and like one of the buffed-up, idiotic Yanks in those stupid, stupid films they used to show on Movie Night, you never know what you've got until you come this close to having it pulled right out from under your feet. OK, so my kids weren't perfect. Honestly, I'd have been disappointed (and not a little suspicious!) if they had been. And it took something like the death of the one person I truly fell in love with for me to bond properly with my children.

I took the kids so Hoshi's gravestone the next day. Everything seemed so peaceful as I stared at the engraved words. Harry sighed and kept tight hold of my hand.

Jonas stared at the gravestone, his lips moving slightly but no sound escaped them.

"Is this where mummy is?" Harry asked quietly.

"Nah," said Jonas quickly. "But we can talk to her here, right Dad?"

"Of course," I agreed. Jonas seemed to have aged right before my eyes. In that moment he reminded me so much of Hoshi it hurt.

"D'ya think she was hurting?" Harry asked, louder this time.

"No." I knew that in her final moments lying sprawled out on the pavement Hoshi was probably in more pain than any person had any right to be in…but I wasn't going to tell Harry that. I might not have used the old 'Mummy's gone away' story when I told them Hoshi had…died. But I wasn't going to tell him that his mother probably died in agony.

He nodded apparently satisfied. Ella shifted slightly in her sleep and I adjusted my grip on her accordingly. Jonas moved slightly closer to the gravestone and just stared at it for a moment.

"Are you going back to work soon?" he asked suddenly whipping round to face me.

"I've got a little over a month left before I have to go back," I told them.

Jonas nodded, Harry walked over to him dropping my hand. I watched them cautiously.

"Bye mummy," said Harry quietly, gazing at the engraved words a moment before returning to my side. "Daddy, can we go home now?"

I watched Jonas a second. "You ready to go home, Jonas?"

He turned and nodded.

The journey home for once wasn't silent. Harry talked about everything; including the thoughts that popped into to his while he was speaking. It made for…interesting conversation to say the least, a conversation Jonas participated in minimally.

I finally understood why Harry had been so withdrawn though. Seeing him at Hoshi's gravestone had made me realise that all he really wanted to do was to say goodbye.

I suppose goodbyes bring closure.

I remained undecided about the psychologist though. It seemed to me like the psychologist was an easy way out, a way of understanding what was going on in their heads without actually making an effort to understand in the first place.

After the visit, Harry certainly seemed more like his old self, chatting away about anything and everything. Jonas was more reflective, but he didn't seem angry anymore. He didn't seem like he was ready to fight against me anymore and for that I was grateful.

I still had to discuss his behaviour at school though. I waited till Harry and Ella were safely tucked away in bed before broaching the subject.

"Jonas, remember when I said we needed to talk about you fighting at school?"

He sighed and flopped down on the sofa. "I didn't start it; it was all Danny Riley's fault."

I blinked. For one, I wasn't expecting him to say that and I also had no idea who Danny Riley was. "Why? What did he do?"

And so the entire story was poured out. It was a story of tragic heroes fighting vicious enemies who were seemingly relentless in their attack. I had to admit, Jonas could spin a good story when he wanted to.

"Alright," I said simply. "No lecture. But if I ever, ever get another call from school about you fighting son, the best story in the world wont save you from being punished, whether he provoked you or not."

"But you used to fight!" Jonas argued.

"Entirely different situation," I said. "Besides, I am trained to fight and you aren't."

"Can I learn then?"

I smiled. "Sure, son." Jonas beamed. "But not until you learn to stop scrapping on the playground."

Jonas scowled and switched on the TV. I watched him, grinning to myself.

I'm no fool. Jonas and I have still got a long way to go before we can get through all of this, wade through all of the problems and deal with them. Only Hoshi could solve the problem and she wasn't here so I'd have to improvise. Still, we had at least made a step in the right direction, a tiny, baby step…but it was progress none the less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks again go to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain who beta'd the entire story for me :)


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